


Final Request

by AnaMikala



Category: Mortal Kombat (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Assisted Suicide, Character Death, Established Relationship, Euthanasia, Flashbacks, Lin Kuei, M/M, Men Crying, Mercy Killing, Ninja, Poisoning, Suicide, Terminal Illnesses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-07
Updated: 2015-07-07
Packaged: 2018-04-08 03:27:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4288950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnaMikala/pseuds/AnaMikala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sub-Zero grants a dying Smoke one final wish. This one's a tearjerker. Warning: Male-male romance and character death. Sub-Zero/Smoke.</p><p>Written in October 2013.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Final Request

**Author's Note:**

> My first foray into the Mortal Kombat fandom. Don’t have much to say other than if you don’t like male-male relationships, this story isn’t for you. There’s nothing explicit, but Sub-Zero and Smoke are very clearly in love in this.
> 
> Also, be prepared for a tearjerker.
> 
> Mortal Kombat and all characters therein don’t belong to me. I’m just borrowing them for the time being.

The soft click of a door opening. Sub-Zero entered his quarters almost silently, closing the door behind him just as quietly. He was doused in shadow, a single lantern in the corner providing just enough light to see with.

He was normally quiet in his movements, his lifelong training as an assassin providing him with unconscious stealth, whether he was stalking a target or not. His silence was deliberate this time, however, as he wished not to disturb the man lying motionlessly in his bed, heedful of his illness and need for quiet.

Sub-Zero moved to the bedside, sitting on the mattress and bending down to remove his shoes. He was dressed in simple attire, sky-blue shirt and pants made of light material. He hadn’t any reason to leave the compound today, so the armored and masked costume he usually wore while on the outside had remained in its chest, folded neatly and awaiting its next use.

Straightening up again, Sub-Zero turned to look at the man sleeping beside him, reaching out and gently touching the thin face. His heart twinged and the skin around his eyes tightened as he took in the gaunt, pale features.

Smoke—Tomas Vrbada—lay there, a mere shadow of what he once was. A wasting disease had ravaged his body, slowly eating him alive. Just a few months ago he had been a strong and capable assassin; now, he was confined to this room, barely able to sit up without help, much less get out of bed.

In the early stages of the disease, Smoke had shown unusual clumsiness, brief moments of incoordination that happened even to the most skilled of warriors—except that they were happening to Smoke much more than was acceptable, either to him or to the grandmaster. He had been reprimanded, and worse, had almost caused the death of more than one of his fellow Lin Kuei. Luckily, no one had actually died, but Smoke’s anger at himself was far greater than his embarrassment at being scolded by the clan leader. Sub-Zero had worried for his friend and lover, concerned by the increasingly frequent lapses in coordination. It wasn’t very long before he suspected that it wasn’t merely bad luck; something was wrong with the other assassin.

As the disease progressed and it became clear that Smoke was in fact ill, undesirable emotions came from all sides. Smoke had panicked at the thought of his body wasting away. He was a Lin Kuei, and his strength and skill as an assassin were of utmost importance to him. To irrevocably lose that was one of his greatest fears, whether he had been aware of it before or not. If he was of no use to the clan, what else did he have to live for? And besides that, this disease would only end in his death. The primal fear all sentient beings felt, consciously or unconsciously, at the realization that they were suffering from a terminal illness had threatened to overtake him. He was still young, just entering the prime of his life, and his entire future had been taken away from him permanently.

Other members of the Lin Kuei had not reacted well, either. Some were afraid the disease was contagious, even though it was apparent that Smoke had been ill for a while and no one else had shown any symptoms. The less compassionate clan members had openly called for Smoke’s banishment, or even his execution. There was no place in the Lin Kuei for a weakling, and for someone not to earn their keep was deplorable, an unwanted burden.

For his part, Sub-Zero had been devastated by the thought of losing Smoke, almost as much as Smoke had been by the realization that his days were numbered. He had already lost his brother, the first Sub-Zero, to a deranged Shirai Ryu ghost hell-bent on revenge; he was now facing the loss of the only other person who really mattered to him, and the prospect of being left alone frightened him deeply.

The calls to rid the clan of the “weak link” had angered him. He aggressively defended Smoke as the gray assassin’s strength failed, moving him into his quarters and refusing to let anyone lay a finger on him. He could see that Smoke’s pride was severely wounded by his need for protection, but he could also see that Smoke was grateful his lover had not abandoned him, that his becoming an invalid had not dampened Sub-Zero’s affections for him.

Sub-Zero closed his eyes as he remembered the last time they made love. Smoke had been visibly diminishing for weeks, and Sub-Zero had begun to have serious doubts about whether Smoke was strong enough for sex. The gray ninja had continued to insist he could handle intimacy, and in retrospect Sub-Zero figured it was one way for him to deny his increasing weakness. He had given in after much coaxing, but deeply regretted it afterward. As he came down from his orgasm, he had realized there were tears on Smoke’s face, and he was trembling violently. They were not tears or tremors of pleasure, but of pain. Smoke was draped over him limply—Sub-Zero had refused to make Smoke bear his weight—anguish wracking his whole body.

Intense guilt had seized Sub-Zero, as well as rage that he had allowed himself to give in and harm his beloved. He gently rolled to the side, laying Smoke next to him, and held him as tightly as he dared, showering quick, desperate kisses on his face and neck, murmuring _I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry_ like a mantra. Smoke had gasped out that he needn’t apologize, that he held Sub-Zero blameless. It had done nothing to lessen Sub-Zero’s dismay and self-hate, however.

Later, when Smoke’s condition had evened out again, Sub-Zero had quite firmly declared that he would not touch Smoke like that again. It was not for lack of love—far from it—but he could not bring himself to cause further hurt to the man. Smoke had quietly agreed, expressing shame that he had practically begged Sub-Zero to make love to him, knowing all the while that it would only end badly. Sub-Zero disagreed on who deserved the blame, but after going back and forth about it for a few minutes, they had both let it drop.

Sub-Zero opened his eyes again, looking upon the face of his lover. The disease was far advanced now, and Smoke’s body was little more than a skeleton with pale, thin skin stretched over the bones. All his former strength was gone, devoured by the illness that ravaged his body. His hair was limp and lifeless, the once vibrant silver strands now brittle and nearly white. Sub-Zero knew that when Smoke opened his eyes, he would see none of the spark that once danced in them, the steel-gray orbs now dull and flat.

Despite the dramatic changes, Sub-Zero still thought him beautiful. Smoke would always be beautiful to him.

As this thought passed through his head, the man on the bed made the tiniest of noises, a nearly inaudible signal that he was waking. Sub-Zero watched him intently, all his attention focused on Smoke.

A moment later, Smoke opened his eyes, staring straight up at the ceiling. He lay there silently for a moment, his gaze listless, then looked at Sub-Zero, emotions flitting weakly through his eyes. Love, gratitude, anticipation, and fear.

“Kuai Liang,” Smoke said quietly, his voice little more than a whisper.

Sub-Zero’s heart squeezed. Smoke was one of only two people allowed to address him by his true name. The other had been his brother Bi Han, now long dead.

“Tomas,” he said just as quietly, leaning down to kiss his lover gently on the forehead. The other man’s skin was cold, a fact he tried not to acknowledge.

Nothing more was said for several minutes, Smoke lying there quietly while Sub-Zero held his hand tenderly. Finally, Smoke spoke again.

“Did you bring it?”

Sub-Zero did not answer right away, dread and heartbreak filling him. He could not keep his emotions from showing, the skin around his eyes tightening and his mouth settling into a grimace of pain. He unconsciously squeezed Smoke’s hand tightly.

Smoke took Sub-Zero’s silence as a negative response, his expression that of shame for disappointing him. His own face crumpled in despair. “Kuai Liang, you _promised_ me…!”

“I did,” Sub-Zero said quickly, stroking Smoke’s hand reassuringly. “I did promise you, and I did bring it.”

Smoke visibly relaxed, a sigh escaping his lips. “Good. Thank you,” he said softly.

Sub-Zero did not respond, slowly reaching into the folds of his tunic to an inside pocket, his soul quaking as his fingers brushed the object Smoke was so desperate for…

* * *

_“Kuai Liang, I have a favor to ask of you.”_

_“Hm?”_ _Sub-Zero opened his eyes. He had been dozing with his arms around his lover. Though he would not have sex with Smoke anymore, fearful of harming him, he often lay next to him in bed, holding him gently. This was all they had left of physical intimacy, and they indulged in it as often as they could._

_Smoke didn’t continue right away. He stared up at the ceiling, expression veiled, his lower lip trembling just slightly._

_“What is it, love?” Sub-Zero prompted._

_“I…I’m so scared to ask you this,” Smoke finally said. “I can’t bear the thought of putting you through it, but I also can’t bear not to try.”_

_“Tomas?”_ _Sub-Zero said worriedly, sitting up to kneel beside the other man. He looked down into Smoke’s face, dismayed to see terror filling his eyes. When Smoke again hesitated, Sub-Zero took his hand, squeezing gently. “Tell me what you need, sweetheart,” he said softly._

_“I…I need…I want you to…” The words left Smoke’s mouth jerkily, as if he was fighting just to get his request out. After struggling for a few moments, he took a deep breath and finally said it all in a rush. “I want you to kill me, Kuai Liang.”_

_Sub-Zero recoiled, dropping Smoke’s hand and jumping to his feet. “What?!” he gasped, not believing his own ears._

_Smoke looked at him, his face and voice now calm. “Kuai Liang, we both know I’m dying. I’m not going to get better. It’ll just keep eating me alive until there’s nothing left of me.”_

_“No!” Sub-Zero interrupted. “Don’t ask that of me, Tomas! I could never do anything to hurt you!”_

_“I’m not asking you to hurt me,” Smoke countered. “I’m asking you to set me free.”_

_“I couldn’t—” Sub-Zero began._

_“Couldn’t what?” Smoke cut across him, bitterness seeping into his voice. “Couldn’t end my pain? Couldn’t deliver me from this endless suffering? There’s nothing left for me in this life, Kuai Liang, just more and more of this hell I’m in! I’m in agony every day, and it only gets worse with every passing hour! There’s no telling when it will finally end!” He squeezed his eyes shut, a tear trickling down his sunken cheek. “Please, Kuai Liang, I’m begging you! Release me from this torment!” His voice was plaintive once again, his body trembling with the force of his emotions._

_“Oh, Tomas,” Sub-Zero said, almost moaning in dismay. “I do want to end your pain. I really do! It kills me to see you like this! But please,” his breath hitched, “don’t ask me to do this. I could never lay a hand on you.”_

_“You don’t have to lay a hand on me,” Smoke said softly._

_“Tomas?”_ _Sub-Zero frowned, looking at his lover through watery eyes._

_“Go to the Apothecary,” Smoke explained. “I’m sure he would help. He’s one of those who called for my death or exile, after all.”_

_Sub-Zero swallowed. There was one among the Lin Kuei known only as the Apothecary, and he was a master in the creation of poisons and other drugs. He was the one they went to when they were in need of a chemical rather than a physical method of bringing down a target. And Smoke was right; he had been rather vocal in his opinion that Smoke was an unwanted weakness in the clan._

_“Tomas,” Sub-Zero said again, returning to the bedside and sitting down. He took Smoke’s hand in his own and brought it to his lips, kissing it reverently. “Tomas, you’re killing me. I want to release you from your pain. I do, I really do…”_

_“Then do this for me,” Smoke said, his voice pleading. “Please, Kuai Liang…I know you love me. Grant me this one last request.”_

_Sub-Zero felt his tears overflow, sliding quickly down his face, blurring his vision so he was almost blind. He kissed Smoke’s hand again. “Yes,” he finally said. “Yes, I will do this for you, Tomas.”_

_“Is that a promise?” Smoke asked, eyeing Sub-Zero wearily._

_“Yes,” Sub-Zero nodded slowly, “it’s a promise.”_

_Smoke smiled weakly, his own tears running over. “Thank you.”_

* * *

That was earlier in the day. Now, Sub-Zero had returned from his visit to the Apothecary, bringing Smoke the promised poison. His lower lip trembled slightly as he withdrew from his pocket a syringe filled with exactly one and one-half cubic centimeters of garishly yellow fluid. The syringe was capped, the needle still separate, though a quick explanation from the Apothecary had informed Sub-Zero how to attach it properly.

They both stared at the syringe for a long moment, neither speaking. Finally, Smoke broke the silence.

“That’s it, huh?”

“Yeah,” Sub-Zero replied in a whisper. Slowly, his hands shaking slightly, he twisted open the needle’s protective casing, uncapping the syringe and attaching the sharp sliver of metal firmly to the tip. After doing so, he looked past the syringe at Smoke, who was watching him with fearful anticipation.

A flood of love and grief filled his chest almost to bursting, and he set the syringe down and gathered Smoke to his chest, holding his weakened lover with as much passion as he dared. He kissed Smoke deeply, pouring all his love into the intimate touch, tears coursing down his cheeks once more.

“Tomas,” he gasped as he broke the kiss. “Oh, Tomas, I love you.”

“Love you,” Smoke managed to reply, his own face wet with tears. “I’m sorry…I’m _so_ sorry for asking you to do this…!”

“Don’t apologize,” Sub-Zero murmured, kissing the corner of Smoke’s mouth. “You need this. I realize that now. It would be cruel to make you linger on any longer.”

“But I know it hurts you,” Smoke said. “I know how much it pains you to do this for me.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Sub-Zero shushed him, placing a finger lightly upon his lips. “I will give you the release you desire. My own pain is not important.”

“Oh, Kuai Liang,” Smoke whispered, “you have always been so good to me. I feel I am unworthy of such a love as yours.”

“You are more than worthy,” Sub-Zero assured him. “It is I who is honored to receive your love.”

Smoke smiled softly.

For a long moment, they remained like that, Sub-Zero cradling Smoke against him, occasionally murmuring words of love to his ill companion. Smoke had come to the Lin Kuei in his early teens, only a few years younger than Sub-Zero, then known as Tundra, was himself. They had grown into manhood together, taking their vows as official clan members at the same time, and had shared just about every part of their adult lives with each other. Smoke had helped him cope with the loss of his older brother, providing him with emotional sanctuary during that difficult time of his life. Tomas Vrbada was precious to him, and though it hurt him deeply, he knew providing the man with a quick death was the most selfless act of love possible in these circumstances. His own pain meant nothing; ending Smoke’s pain meant everything.

“Shall we get on with it then?” Smoke whispered an indeterminate amount of time later.

Sub-Zero swallowed. Yes, it was time. He retrieved the syringe from where he had abandoned it earlier. Time seemed to slow as he brought it to Smoke’s neck. The Apothecary had advised him to inject the poison into a jugular vein, as it would then be conveyed directly to the heart. It would ensure the quickest, least painful death. Sub-Zero was no doctor, but he was well-versed in the placement of the main blood vessels of the neck, as opening one was a quick way to dispatch a target. His ice daggers had split open the carotids and jugulars of many victims, his strike precise and deadly.

Smoke felt the needle’s sharp point touch his skin, and he smiled in bittersweet gratitude.

“ _Miluju_ _tě_ ,” he murmured, the words rolling off his tongue with utmost affection.

Sub-Zero’s breath hitched. It was _I love you_ in Czech, Smoke’s native tongue, a declaration the gray ninja had whispered to him many a night, breathless from their lovemaking and still quaking with pleasure. Or he would cry it out in the throes of passion, driven mad with ecstasy, babbling incomprehensibly in his birth language, Sub-Zero understanding only that one phrase. Smoke had lived in China with the Lin Kuei for years and spoke their language almost perfectly, and the times he slipped back into Czech without realizing it were endlessly endearing to Sub-Zero.

But Sub-Zero knew this time was deliberate. Smoke was telling him how much he loved him, how much he needed him, how much he treasured Sub-Zero’s affections. Sub-Zero’s heart trembled, and he responded in kind.

“ _Wǒ_ _ài nǐ._ ”

The needle pierced Smoke’s skin, entering his vein cleanly. Sub-Zero took a deep breath and pressed down on the plunger, slowly injecting the yellow substance into his lover’s bloodstream. Smoke gave a shuddering sigh, his body relaxing as he prepared for the end.

When it was all injected, Sub-Zero pulled the needle from Smoke’s neck and dropped the syringe to the mattress, holding Smoke against him gently as they both waited for the inevitable.

“Kuai Liang…” Smoke whispered almost inaudibly several moments later. “…so good to me…”

His breath left him quietly, and he was still.

A sharp pain pierced Sub-Zero’s chest as he watched the life leave his lover’s eyes, pupils dilating as the muscles relaxed in death. A ragged sob tore from his throat, and he clutched Smoke’s body to him, weeping bitterly.

Smoke, Tomas Vrbada, his lover and best friend, was dead. Sub-Zero was now alone, bereft of all whom he loved, bound to serve a clan he had become increasingly disillusioned with, and downright alienated from these past few months.

Finally, he lay Smoke down on the bed, gently closing the man’s eyes and arranging his body in a relaxed position, his arms at his sides. What little color had remained in Smoke’s skin was now gone, blood draining away as circulation ceased. His expression was peaceful, and Sub-Zero smiled in spite of himself. Still, he was beautiful, perfect in Sub-Zero’s eyes. He leaned down, placing a soft kiss upon those pale lips.

“Tomas,” he said quietly as he sat up, reaching into the inside pocket again. “I know you wouldn’t wish for me to do this, but it’s the only option left open to me.” With those words, he withdrew a second syringe, identical to the first, containing the same lemon-yellow liquid. It had taken a fair amount of cajoling, but he had finally convinced the Apothecary to give him two doses of the poison instead of one.

This second dose wasn’t for Smoke, it was for Sub-Zero.

Wordlessly, he attached the needle and set it against his neck, and without hesitation pierced the large vein and pumped the poison into his bloodstream. Tossing the now empty syringe aside, he lay down next to Smoke and put his arms around the other man.

After a moment, his vision began to dim and blur, and a bone-deep weariness overtook him. Cold deeper than his own ice settled in his core, spreading outward and numbing his limbs. Dizziness swept over him, and the world began to spiral into darkness.

He prayed he would see his love on the other side.

Blackness enveloped him, and it felt like he was falling, spinning rapidly into the void, Smoke’s body disappearing from his arms. His awareness retreated to the back of his mind, and time lost all meaning to him.

Sometime later—it could have been seconds, it could have been centuries, Sub-Zero couldn’t determine—a radiance burst upon his senses. He reflexively backed away, dazzled by what he saw. Though anyone else would see only a man, Sub-Zero saw a vision of beauty so perfect that it was painful to look upon.

It was Smoke—Tomas—and he was healthy again, his limbs once again thick with muscle, his body robust and strong like it had once been.

“Kuai Liang,” Smoke said with a sad yet indulgent smile, “you didn’t have to follow me.”

“I had no choice but to follow you,” Sub-Zero countered. “There was nothing left for me in that life, Tomas. I would have gone mad without you.”

Smoke’s smile widened. “Then, come here,” he said, reaching for his love. “Show me how much you need me.” With no hesitation, he pulled Sub-Zero into a deep kiss.

Oh, yes…he needed him badly.

* * *

Their bodies were discovered early the next morning, some other clan members coming to investigate Sub-Zero’s disappearance. News of his suicide—and his suspected hand in Smoke’s death—spread throughout the compound with blinding speed. Some clan members expressed dismay at his death, while others scoffed that it was a sign of weakness that he ended his own life. Smoke’s illness had ultimately claimed two victims, and the clan was deeply divided over it.

They were buried in a single grave in the woods outside the compound, those who were sympathetic to their plight erecting a modest headstone to mark their final resting place. It bore only their names and the Chinese character for love. Daily life in the Lin Kuei compound resumed immediately, their memories not to be dwelled upon. To do so would be to risk their disembodied spirits returning to haunt their former home. Or so tradition stated. Their spirits had already crossed into the afterlife, and had no intention of returning anytime soon.

And, as always, life went on.

**End**

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I know. Sap, sap, sap. I’m a romantic at heart, though, and losing a loved one certainly evokes a lot of deep emotions. I hope it wasn’t too cheesy.
> 
> Please leave a review. I’d love to know how my first contribution to the MK fandom is received. Flames are not welcome, though. If you didn’t like it, it would have been very easy to just hit the “back” button on your browser.
> 
> AnaMikala, over and out.


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